


...Said the Joker to the Thief

by kelly_goosecock



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, No Homo, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 00:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20106169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_goosecock/pseuds/kelly_goosecock
Summary: Ryuji is having a hard time dealing with some new feelings. Akira offers to help in a really gay way. No homo, though.





	...Said the Joker to the Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: 12-19. I don't like this very much anymore. It's the first fanfic I ever tried to write. I'm not orphaning or deleting it, though. 
> 
> i got tired of reading fics where ryuji is the big gay right off the bat. wanted to go for something more believable. kinda porn-light. probably isn't very good, but i've been chipping away at it for a little over a week so fuck it.
> 
> (you can find a continuation of sorts right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/20319901)
> 
> title is an obvious hendrix reference

“Damn it…”

Ryuji hissed the curse at no one in particular. He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The events of the past few months were beginning to take their toll. Ever since he got over the initial shock of this whole “palaces, shadows, and talking cats” thing, the flurry of confusion in his head began growing louder, harder to ignore. He was feeling pent up like never before. Not _ that _ kind of pent up - no, he could take care of _ that_. Emotions Ryuji had never felt before were welling up from somewhere deep inside, and he was unable to explain or reconcile them. Unfortunately, as he discovered, this particular problem could be solved with neither brute force nor masturbation. Since those were really the only tools in his shed, he found himself frequently lying in bed, just like this, mulling over whatever topic wormed its way into his conscious mind. He couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse.

Attempts to parse important information broke down and gave way to irrelevant tangents: meandering thoughts about himself and his new teammates. He and Akira had been training the other day. They did some free weight exercises, ran around the school a few times… Damn it! Why was he thinking about such useless shit? No matter how he tried to focus, he found himself looping back to Akira. Defeated, he gave in and let his mind wander. _ Oh well. I guess thinkin’ about random shit is better than not thinkin’ at all. _

He was impressed with his friend's ability to keep up with his intense workout. Sure, Akira was in shape - perhaps bizarrely so, considering his caloric intake - but he was neither powerlifter nor posterboy. His pectoral muscles were mere suggestions of contour, and his stomach was flatter than Kansas - not that he would know where that is. However, the absence of any significant muscle definition only complimented his form. Smooth lines. Smoother skin. Not quite boyish but far from manly. His limbs were relatively underwhelming to the eye but irresistibly lean and graceful to the touch. Graceful is a good word for it: Akira's style, his posture, hell, the finesse with which he did seemingly even the most mundane of things... Though Ryuji might not put it in such terms, Akira was beautiful - no wonder Yusuke was so eager to seek him as a muse. That said, his figure was not the kind that the women ogle and men envy, no, that title belonged to Ryuji. 

To put "Ryuji" and "in shape" in the same sentence would be redundant. Before the Phantom Thieves, physical fitness was just about the only thing he could not only rely on, but also be proud of. The idea of getting as strong as possible was alluring to Ryuji. Subconsciously substituting physical strength for emotional strength made it so that he could both avoid acknowledging his flaws as a person and have something to brag about. Sure, most attempts at self-expression usually ended unpleasantly, but who needs shit like that when you can do 75 pushups in a row?

By the time Akira came into his life, he looked more than ever like the dictionary definition of lean. He was not bulky, for he did not work out to show off. Instead, he had the kind of muscle that you might not notice under his school uniform, but would set your heart racing if only you were able to get him out of that stuffy jacket and those pants. Peaks and valleys of strength splayed across his young body, bulging just enough so that you knew they were there, hard and powerful. You would have no choice but to admire the way his triceps flowed across his shoulders into his back muscles rippling as he moved. You wouldn't be able to resist the urge to touch him all over, becoming a flood of grabbing hands and prodding, squeezing fingers... 

Nobody ever got that far. No one at Shujin wanted to try. Ryuji's status as pariah compounded on his existing reputation as a loudmouth troublemaker, snapping any prospect of social interaction - let alone romance - like a twig. And while it did pain him at times to be so alone, to never see eye to eye with his peers or have his greetings returned with any degree of genuine enthusiasm, he never really knew what he was missing until Akira showed him. Akira's unconditional kindness and compassion seemed to toy with one of the many voids in Ryuji's heart, awakening a strange new feeling: an uncanny motivation to work his ass off not just for himself, but for his best friend, too.

Best friend. Ryuji found himself rolling the words around in his head. It filled him with a bittersweet ache, a paradoxical tears-of-joy happiness-sadness that begged to be fed, and it didn't take him long to realize that mere friendship was not feeding it enough. He did appreciate Akira, fully and truly, but his newfound proximity to Ann was… giving him pause. He had noticed girls before, and, to that end, he knew enough to brag about his imaginary prowess as a suitor, but he was merely parroting the locker room talk that is expected of boys his age. Now that a girl, a real live girl with the ferocity of a wildcat and the body of a centerfold was seemingly within his reach, it stirred within him something much deeper. Companionship was one thing, but romance? Not even in the same ballpark. That ache in his chest became impossible to ignore, and for a time his thoughts were dedicated only to Ann. He imagined making her smile, asking her out, holding her hand... These images created a unique feeling inside of Ryuji. It was like the warmth of friendship was evolving inside of him - evolving into a strange, wholesome lust that tingled in his groin. That feeling melted away every defense mechanism Ryuji ever built, and turned him into a quivering fool with a stupid grin and an insatiable erection. 

That was the way it was until he began to really think about it. Would she really like him like that? Hell, did _ he _ even like _ her _ like that? His concept of romance was born from a combination of his affection for Akira and his somewhat limited knowledge of sexual relations, and it didn't occur to him at first that he didn't just want a friend who he could also fuck - though he wanted desperately to fuck - he wanted someone he could trust. Someone he could rely on and confide in more than a friend. No matter how deep the camaraderie between the phantom thieves would grow, it could not deliver the satisfaction of romantic love. 

Ryuji stewed on this idea, and though perhaps he could not so deftly articulate his emotions, he decided his previous affections for Ann were likely misplaced. Yes, he did like messing with her, and he really liked it when she got all huffy and made that face at him, or, better yet, physically struck him, feeding the kind of immature love-hate instincts that fuel young relationships... ...but it wasn't to be, he was sure of it. That was about the only thing he was sure of, though. These thoughts had been growing and metastasizing until they filled his head almost daily. He couldn't do this alone anymore, and, with a friend like Akira, he cursed himself for trying. Ryuji rolled over in his sheets, blindly grabbing for his cell phone. He cringed at the clock - had he really been laying around that long? - and opened his messaging app.

A chirping ringtone punctured the thick silence of Akira's room above LeBlanc. Akira stirred, ignoring an inevitable complaint from Morgana. He knew it must have been important; he only kept notifications on overnight for his friends. 

Ryuji:

hey man, idk really how to say this

Akira waited.

Ryuji:

nvm. was just freakin out over nothin

Ryuji:

but hey, u wanna hang out? can I swing by ur place tomorrow? 

Akira wasn't stupid. If Ryuji wanted to hang out, he would have just asked, and it wouldn't have been in the middle of the night.

Akira:

Sure. Something on your mind?

Ryuji:

nah dont worry about it man. like I said i just wasnt thinkin straight is all. see u tomorrow!!

Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Ryuji totally effed that up. He lost his cool, and now Akira thinks he's some kind of idiot. God damn it, why couldn't he just say what he wanted to? Did he even know what he wanted to say in the first place? Something about relationships, it was lost to him now in his panic. _ Note to self, figure that shit out first before you pick up the phone an’ start actin’ all weird, genius! _His sheets were slightly damp with nervous sweat. What the eff was he gonna do in the morning? Ryuji was not a good liar. There was no way he was gonna get through a day of hanging with Akira without him figuring out something was up. Of course, Akira already knew something was up. 

Standing outside the door to LeBlanc, Ryuji was psyching himself up. He decided he would say he wanted to play video games. If Akira still wanted to hang out, they'd have curry. Simple. That's it. Easy. No hang ups here, not today. Ryuji Sakamoto was cool as a cucumber, ready to… oh, what was the point? He was totally freaking out. Oh well. He made his bed, and now, he thought, he must lie in it. He stepped inside.

“Oh, hey. Akira's upstairs. Try to keep it down, okay? I don't have many regulars this time of day, so I'd prefer it if you didn't scare them off.”

Ryuji nodded absently. Normally he found Sojiro's blunt attitude somewhat amusing, but he wasn't even really listening today. Stepping upstairs, he found Akira reclined on the bed, scrolling through his phone. Akira sat up.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Ryuji mustered a grin. “How's it goin’?” 

“Do you want you want to tell me what's going on?”

Well, shit. This wasn't gonna be easy to salvage.

“Yeah, what's goin’ on is I'm gonna whoop your ass! C'mon, boot this thing up!” 

Ryuji gestured to the games console on the table. Akira's mouth curled into a little grin, eyes sparkling in the light of the attic window. _ Good save _ , thought Ryuji, _ guess I am pretty smooth after all! _

Akira popped in an old fighting game - Ryuji's favorite. Ryuji's mind swiftly filled with button combos and strategies. He might not have impressed in the classroom, but ever since joining the Thieves, he showed immense amounts of natural talent on the battlefield, fictional or otherwise. He thought through upcoming moves like lightning, and his fingers danced around the controller, performing a blinding flurry of inputs. Fireball. Block. Block. Light punch, duck, uppercut. As he often did, Ryuji won, 2 to 1.

He turned to Akira to talk his usual trash, but the look on his friend’s face made him pause. The “calling-your-bullshit-but-still-glad-to-see-you” smile that Akira once wore was gone, and in its place was one of pure warmth. Ryuji was unsure if he'd ever noticed Akira emote like this. He was used to seeing the same two faces on his friend: contemplative nothingness or shit-eating grin. Had he not been paying close enough attention to Akira before? Was Akira always that excited to be with him? Ryuji was grateful, but he felt like he was sensing something more behind that face. 

Akira let Ryuji stare. It wasn't time to pressure him yet. 

“Another?”

“O-oh, yeah!” Shit, did he just space out right there? “I hope you ain’t tired a’ losin’!” 

As the rematch began, so resumed the flow of Ryuji's thoughts. Fireball. Forward jump, medium kick cross-up. Akira is such a good friend.

Wait.

Where the eff did that come from? 

Before he knew it, he was finished off in one combo. Ok, well, it's not like Akira hadn't taken rounds off him before, just gotta go 2-1 again. Easy. Just don't lose focus this time. Jump back. Fireball. Fireball. Block. Duck, heavy kick. Man, it sure sucked being a virgin.

Oh christ, not again. 

Ryuji's jaw slackened as his character on the tv crumpled to the ground. He tried his best to remain composed, all the while internally cursing his own stupid brain for messing him up. How could he let this happen? What exactly was it that happened? He froze. A hand was on his shoulder. This affectionate gesture sent chills down his spine. He turned to Akira, and the compassion he saw in that face sent those chills wandering all across his insides. 

“You can talk to me. I'm here.” 

Ryuji just about melted. He could hardly keep it together.

“W-whaddaya mean? I don't-”

“You never lose this game. Something's wrong, and if you want, you're gonna talk to me about it.”

Aw, eff. The jig was well and truly up - though, little did Ryuji know, he never had a chance of fooling Akira. He paused for a second, trying to gather himself. The hand on his shoulder radiated a pleasing warmth. _ Gimme a sec to think! Stop effin’ touchin’ me! _

“Well - ya see,” he began, stilted and disjointed, “I've just been thinkin’ about… stuff!”

“Stuff.” Akira was getting dangerously close to shit-eating grin territory again, which didn't help the frustration piling up inside of Ryuji, who grasped for the first sensible thing that came to mind.

“I guess one part of it is… Ann? I thought I was into her but then she wasn't havin’ _ that _ so I was all ‘okay, maybe not’, and-”

“You like Ann? Do you want me to help you ask her out? That would probably piss off Morgana pretty bad, you know.”

Ryuji was speechless. It wasn't the best guess, but goddamn if it didn't show just how much Akira cared for him. There went that warm feeling again, inching steadily downwards from his chest. _ Not gay. I dunno why this is happening but I don't like dudes like that, and I certainly don't like Akira like that, goddammit. _His mind was being pulled in all directions, and his inability to articulate himself, especially in front of someone he wanted to respect him, was starting to really piss him off. 

“No, damn it! No.” Ryuji stood, breaking eye contact with Akira. “Shit's just been… kinda effed up lately.” He walked over to the window, then turned back towards his friend. “I've been thinking about _ us _, I guess.” 

Akira raised his eyebrows.

“Not like that, asshole!” Ryuji was yelling now. Akira hoped Sojiro was too busy to notice. “...I mean, like, we're friends right?”

Akira nodded. 

“It's just that… ya’ see… and don't think I don't appreciate you or nothin’ cause I really do -” _ holy freakin’ shit, I'm a mess _ “- I've just been feelin’… kinda lonely, I guess. And I didn't even feel lonely before you and the whole Phantom Thieves thing and it's just been really hard ‘cause I can't figure out why the hell things got like this ‘cause really, I'm livin’ the dream, you know? I should be on top a’ the world, an’ I-”

“Calm down.” Akira stood up from his chair. “You're feeling lonely?” He walked over to the front of the bed, next to Ryuji. 

“Y-yeah…” Ryuji hated to have to hear it out loud again. 

“And you don't want to talk to Ann.”

“Nah, I just don't think we'd really ‘work', y'know?”

“And you're not interested in anyone else.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji snorted, “you know what the other kids at Shujin say about me. They'd go on a date with principal Kobayakawa before they'd even think about throwin’ me a bone.”

“So what about me?”

...Ryuji eyed Akira cautiously. Maybe it was just a harmless suggestion. Maybe he meant something other than what Ryuji thought he was trying to get at… 

“Dude. What _ about _you?”

“Maybe I can help you. Stop you from feeling lonely. Clearly, playing video games and fishing with you isn’t enough.”

Yup. It was exactly like Ryuji feared. His best friend was coming onto him.

“Akira… I... I ain’t gay, man.” 

Akira blinked. He did not speak. The light from the window made his eyes sparkle again. There was too much tension in the room, why the eff wasn't Akira talking? Ryuji was getting pissed.

“You hear me, man? I told you, I'm into girls!”

“I can be a girl for you.” 

Akira responded so quickly it was as if he knew what Ryuji was going to say. The words hit Ryuji like a sucker punch, knocked the air out of him, knocked every thought out of his brain. _ For real? _

“Wha-uh- ...Idon't- I… ...what does that even mean?” 

“You can pretend I'm a girl. I'll be your girlfriend until you find a real one. It's the least I could do.”

Ryuji was knocked speechless again. A million questions pelted his brain like a shotgun blast. He picked one at random, desperate for something, anything to make sense. 

“Whaddaya mean ‘be my girlfriend’? You don’t mean, like, goin’ on dates n’ stuff?”

“Not exactly.”

The warmth Ryuji felt earlier was not leaving, and, worryingly, it threatened to continue growing and migrating towards his crotch. _ Akira. A girl. _ The image that popped into his head was not decidedly different from how Akira already looked. The face wouldn’t need to change much, and, though Ryuji preferred ample breasts, he felt they might look out of place in this situation. A new image came to him, Akira in a maid uniform. Perhaps he would bend over to dust around the baseboard, slightly exposing his… his? _ Yeah, hers, right. _

Akira put one hand on Ryuji's hip, jolting him from his daydream.

“H-h-hey, woah! What are you doin’!?”

“I just thought maybe you'd want to… you know, judging by…” 

Akira lowered his eyes. Following the gaze, Ryuji quickly realized he was sporting a full-on erection, his pants folding and straining around his shaft. He was embarrassed, but it’s not like he could not deny what got him hard in the first place.

Each time Ryuji got nervous like this, Akira was forced to reconsider his course of action. Sure, he wouldn't mind a piece of Ryuji, but the point was to try and help him. If he really was that uncomfortable, it wouldn't help to try and force him. Ryuji surprised Akira by speaking first. 

“S-so… we're pretendin’ you're a girl, yeah?”

Jackpot. Akira nodded silently

“And this ain't gay or nothin’?”

Akira nodded “no”. 

“And you'd really do all a’ this just for me? Just to try and make me feel better?”

Akira smiled again, and, god damn it, that fucking smile. Ryuji was suddenly overtaken by that same lust he once felt for Ann, the kind of feeling that says “I want to hold you and love you and fuck you and make you happy and…” _ And I’m feelin’ like that ‘cause Akira is a girl and he’s my girlfriend. Shit, I mean SHE’S. Okay. As long as I can remember that, this might just work._

“S-so… what's first? Whaddaya wanna do first?”

“How about you kiss me?” 

Akira wrapped his other arm around Ryuji, pulling their bodies together. Their bellies touched. Ryuji's bulge pressed against the inside of Akira's thigh, throbbing ferociously. Akira reflexively let out a sharp breath. _ He's bigger than me. _ Ryuji was too busy focusing on the sparks and tingles emanating from where Akira was touching him. Was this what it was like? Was this what it was like to be held by a lover? _ Remember. Not Akira. It's a girl. _

_ “ _Before we do this… you're a girl, yeah? Cause if you go breakin’ character then shit might get too weird for me.”

Akira nodded, smiling. He wanted to poke fun at Ryuji for ruining the moment somewhat, or point out how shit was already pretty weird - I mean here he was swept up in his best friend's arms - but he didn’t want to test Ryuji’s limits just yet, lest that moment tarnish their relationship forever.

“Okay… ...hey, you ever done this before?”

Akira nodded “no”. He gripped a little tighter on Ryuji's back. _ Just kiss me already, you idiot. _

Ryuji's eyes shut on their own. The young boys’ heads drew together and their lips met ungracefully. They neither knew nor cared about technique - no, they were operating on pure instinct and animalistic libido. Ryuji slipped Akira's supple bottom lip between his own, puckering softly like he'd seen other people do in the movies. Soon his arms were around Akira's back - those powerful, mean arms - and he drew back in for another taste. He gripped tight as their mouths met again. Akira let out a needy, quiet mewl, the sound of which sent bolts of pleasure from Ryuji's neck to the tip of his dick. Their hands navigated each others’ backs, holding and squeezing as their lips pressed together and slid away, already wet with their mixing saliva. When Ryuji leaned in this time though…

*CLONK*

Their teeth clattered together, and Ryuji recoiled in surprise. He was ripped out of the moment, and a rush of panicked thoughts quickly filled his brain again.

“Shit, shitshitshitshit!” He didn't mean to say that, but it came out anyway. “Oh god, I totally friggin effed that up so bad-” 

Akira chuckled, trying ineffectually to mask his amusement with a hand coyly shielding his face. Ryuji wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Oh man, oh god, dude, an’ I just totally kissed you, like no-holds-barred, makin’ out friggin-”

Akira put a finger to Ryuji's lips. 

“Shh. Don't say ‘dude.’ I’m your _ girlfriend _ now, remember?”

“R-right! Sorry!”

As Ryuji calmed down there was a moment of lingering silence.

“So, uh… you wanna do that some more?” 

Akira put his hands on Ryuji's hips, gently guiding him to sit on the couch. Akira joined him. 

“We have plenty of time for that. I'm more concerned about how… pent up you're getting… down there.”

Ryuji was indeed _ that _ kind of pent up now, but Akira's offer carried a lot more baggage than a kiss or two. 

“...I don't know if we should. I'm havin’ a bit of… trouble. I know we're pretendin’ an’ all, but I don't know if I want you to touch me… like that. Yet.”

Akira leaned over and kissed Ryuji once on the neck. He ran his fingers through Ryuji's hair and whispered into his ear.

“I'm only gonna do what you want me to do. This is all still for you. If you want, we can just kiss some more. As long as I'm making you happy, then I'm happy too.”

Ryuji's heart melted again. How could someone be so selfless? He knew it would make him feel better, so why turn the offer down?

“O-oh. Well… I- I think it might be okay if you touch it, then”

“Whatever you say.” Akira wanted to throw a “master” on the end there, but he wasn't sure just how kinky Ryuji was. Next time, maybe.

Akira's nimble fingers set upon Ryuji's zipper. Ryuji gulped. His breathing was speeding up again, cock still engorged and needy. He lifted his butt off the bed and Akira slid his pants down to his knees. Ryuji's briefs were at their limit, his considerable bulge leaving little to the imagination. Akira took it in with hungry eyes. He slowly, gingerly moved his hand above it, hesitating, as if to say, “well, this is it.” In that moment, it felt like Ryuji was frozen in time, a knot of conflicted companionship and carnal desire. Akira lowered his hand to cup Ryuji's shaft. 

Ryuji exhaled slowly, and as pleasure washed over him, time began to flow once more. Akira was running his hand gently across the length of his friend, drawing out a breath with every slow stroke. Ryuji leaned back, supporting himself with his hands. He was still having trouble dealing with this whole “pretending his best friend is a girl” thing, naturally. He wasn't convinced he was at all comfortable with kissing Akira, let alone the fact that Akira was currently caressing his privates with such genuine care, but the sensations inside him trumped whatever preconceived notions he had about his sexuality. He may have _ thought _ what he was doing was wrong, but his body had evidently come to the opposite conclusion. 

Akira slipped a finger beneath the waistband of Ryuji's strained underwear. He tugged at it, eager, but maintaining a gentle sensuality. No point in going too fast and freaking out Ryuji, right? The waistband slipped past Ryuji's tip, his cock springing forth, bouncing slightly with an undeniable weight. Akira let out another quiet noise, a satisfied groan. Ryuji had showered that morning, but the early summer heat combined with his tendency to sweat when nervous meant that his privates were now emanating a raw, sexual smell. Akira took it in and savored it. Real sex is not all perfume and roses, it's sweat and semen and hair-pulling and risk-taking. It's experimenting with your “straight” friend in the attic. Akira chuckled at the thought, reaching for Ryuji. 

Just then, something flashed through Ryuji's brain.

“WAIT!”

Akira almost jumped. He drew his hand away, looking in anticipation at Ryuji, who now spoke in a whisper.

“Where's Morgana?” 

Akira fell backwards in the bed, laughing. He didn't want to make Ryuji feel bad, but, my god, what an idiot he could be sometimes. Ryuji crossed his arms and glared at Akira.

“It ain't funny, asshole..."

Akira sat back up. He massaged Ryuji's thigh in apology. 

“He's with Ann. I figured you had something personal to say and wouldn't want any interruptions. Clearly, things went a little further than that, but regardless…”

“Yeah, I don't know what the hell I'd do if he walked in on… this."

Ryuji unfolded his arms and grabbed Akira's hand, weaving their fingers together. 

"…and, uh, sorry if I keep, like, ruinin’ the mood or whatever. Girlfriend.”

Akira kissed Ryuji on the cheek. _ It's okay, dummy. _ He put his hands on Ryuji's shoulders, turning him to lay lengthwise on the bed. Kneeling at the far end of the bed, Akira pulled Ryuji's pants and underwear the rest of the way off. He leaned forward onto all fours, one hand rubbing Ryuji's abs under his shirt.

"Ryuji, you're so strong..."

It was cheesy, but Akira figured it sounded like something a girl might say. Ryuji's cock twitched, which was affirmation enough. Ryuji was too caught up in the moment to care, but Akira had had enough of all this teasing. He dragged his hand down Ryuji's stomach and across his waist. Ryuji inhaled in anticipation as his friend wrapped his fingers around his twitching shaft. 

Akira pulled gently downwards, revealing the tip of Ryuji's uncut cock. He pressed a thumb into the underside, just below the head, rubbing slow circles. Ryuji tensed slightly, letting out a hiss that turned into a low groan. He turned his head to the side and shut his eyes, overcome by the stimulation. _ God, he's so cute. _ Eventually, Akira reached up, letting his other hand explore his friend's muscular thigh. 

"A-Akira... Can you..."

Akira looked up. Ryuji was looking down at him again, staring right into his eyes.

"M-more, please"

Akira obeyed. He was stroking Ryuji now, long, slow, full motions, twisting and squeezing with every reciprocation. Ryuji's breath, getting faster and more ragged, kept catching in his throat as his limbs squirmed and his toes curled back and forth. In his head, he was still struggling to fantasize about some alternate universe where what he was doing wasn't totally gay. For a moment he might imagine it was a cute chick that was getting him off, but he could not shake the image of Akira smiling that goddamn smile, saying shit like "I'm doing this for you", and "please don't feel lonely." Under any other circumstances he would easily bury thoughts like that, but he was beginning to realize what his subconscious had already decided: it was Akira he wanted, not some pretend Akira-girl or anyone else. The revelation would have to wait, as, at that moment, he was being touched like no one had ever touched him before. 

"I-I think" 

Ryuji grunted.

"I'm gonna..."

He whined.

That was enough of a signal for Akira. He ducked his head down and slipped the first inch of Ryuji into his mouth, flicking his tongue around the circumference of his head, still stroking the rest of the shaft with his hand. Ryuji filled the air with moan after tortured moan, some long and some choppy. He clenched the sheets, back arched, as tremors of pleasure obliterated his body and mind. Akira eagerly milked each thick load from his friend’s climaxing cock. He found himself moaning between throatfuls of cum. 

In a moment, it was all over. Ryuji’s body fell slack, and Akira pulled away from his groin. Silence hung in the air for a moment - silence but for the sound of Ryuji’s slowing breath.

“Dude… ...did you just suck m-”

“Hey. Girlfriend, remember?”

“Akira…”

Ryuji looked down the bed at his friend. This was an awkward time and place to try and have a serious conversation.

“Akira, I don’t think we gotta pretend anymore.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, what we just did, that ain’t no small thing, and you were willin’ to do that ‘cause you thought it would make me feel better. Hell, seein’ as I agreed to it, I think that means I wanted it. I wanted you.”

Akira waited patiently as Ryuji stirred to grab and don his underwear. Ryuji plopped himself back on the edge of the couch, clearly still deep in thought. Akira sat next to him again, grabbing Ryuji's hand and folding it into his. 

"Still, that was, like, pretty freakin' weird, you know that?"

"I know."

"...is shit gonna be weird between us forever now?"

"Not if I can help it."

Ryuji's brow curled up in thought. 

"I dunno how that's possible, I mean, what even is this, y'know? Are we... are we boyfriends now?"

"We'll figure it out as we go along. We don't have to rush into anything, and nobody has to know about us."

Ryuji thought some more, then smiled. 

"Man, that's why you're so great! You're always solvin' tough shit like it's nothin'!"

They looked at each other. Akira was wearing that same warm smile as before, but it no longer brought about any kind of confliction in Ryuji. Another kiss. It felt right. They fell back into the bed, locked in an embrace, face to face.

“And, man, where the hell’dya learn how to do that stuff with your hands? Shii-it, that was perfect.”

“Ryuji, you know I have a penis, too, right?”

Just like that they were shit-talking again. _ Akira seriously just jerked me off five seconds ago and we’re already back at it like nothin’s changed. _It was comforting. For the first time in months, Ryuji knew how he felt, and despite how inappropriate the words might have been considering what preceded them, they needed to be said.

"I think I love you, dude."

"I love you too, Ryuji."

The sun hung high over the streets of Yongen-Jaya. 

"Maybe next time I'll let you put it in my butt."

"FOR REAL?!"


End file.
